


Beautiful Stranger

by ChameleonCircuit



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Barisi - Freeform, First Kiss, First Meeting, M/M, RITA CALHOUN IS THE ARTIST OK, alternative universe - art gallery, rafael barba sells art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-23 17:06:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14938379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChameleonCircuit/pseuds/ChameleonCircuit
Summary: He watched the way the man smirked, the way he turned his body in tune with Sonny’s, one hand on his hip and the other holding a tumbler of scotch. His eyes raked over the man before him, hoping he was being discreet. This was a man designed to wear a tuxedo -- it seemed to fit his body perfectly, emphasizing all his best features. Suddenly, he felt like even more of a fraud. He fiddled with the seam inside his pockets, willing himself to look casual, comfortable.





	Beautiful Stranger

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mrbarbacarisi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrbarbacarisi/gifts).



> Happy birthday, mrbarbacarisi!! I hope you enjoy this xx
> 
> Thanks to tobeconspicuous for acting as beta, as always ;)

Sonny slid his finger under his collar, pulling in an attempt to loosen its hold on his neck, just a little. He was used to wearing suits, he wore them almost every day for his job. A tuxedo was new territory, and it made him feel stuffy and stifled, out of place, a fake. He didn’t like it one bit.

 

As he’d picked up the tux from the rental, he’d honestly been a little excited. He’d never had a reason to wear a tux, and he figured it wouldn’t hurt anyone if he did a James Bond pose in the mirror with his gun, where no one could see. But once he’d put the outfit on, he’d felt instantly uncomfortable. The collar felt too tight, the waistcoat felt too loose, and when he’d looked in the mirror he had felt like a fraud.

 

And now he was stuck feeling uncomfortable and out of place in a room full of posh, rich art collectors and their beautiful partners.

 

He tugged at his collar again, only to have his hand slapped away by Teresa before she took hold of his arm.

 

“Stop,” she hissed, planting a smile on her face for the room to see. “Just enjoy yourself.”

 

“This was a terrible idea,” he hissed back, snatching two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter, handing one to Teresa, though he was tempted to keep them both for himself. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”

 

“Oh, shush. You can’t tell me you wouldn’t like to meet a wealthy person to run off with.” She smirked at him as his face heated up. “So just relax. You might find the love of your life.”

 

“Until they find out I’m a fraud,” he grumbled, downing the flute of champagne in one mouthful, ignoring the scoff he received from Teresa.

 

It only took five minutes for his sister to be releasing his arm, sashaying off with a small wave and a devilish smirk on her face. As she sidled up next to a tall man in a gray suit, Sonny rolled his eyes and shoved his hands in his pockets as he turned to look at the painting closest to him.

 

Art wasn’t his forte. He’d never really understood it. He could appreciate the beauty of certain classic artforms, and more modern, realistic styles, but most of art escaped him. He narrowed his eyes on the mostly white canvas, eyes darting between each red and black splatter as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. They were calling this art, but to him, it looked like part of a crime scene.

 

He felt his eyes go wide as he looked at the price tag beside it. $199,999. He breathed out a long, slow breath, taking a minute step back from the painting in an attempt to see some kind of beauty in it.

 

“There’s no hidden meaning.” The voice behind him was smooth enough to send goosebumps down his spine.

 

Sonny turned around, locking eyes with the most beautiful shade of green he’d ever seen. He felt a small smile tug at the corners of his mouth at that thought. An artist would come up with a better color than  _ green _ .

 

“Doesn’t all art have meaning?” He asked, half turning back towards the painting, though he kept his eyes locked on his new companion.

 

He watched the way the man smirked, the way he turned his body in tune with Sonny’s, one hand on his hip and the other holding a tumbler of scotch. His eyes raked over the man before him, hoping he was being discreet. This was a man designed to wear a tuxedo -- it seemed to fit his body perfectly, emphasizing all his best features. Suddenly, he felt like even more of a fraud. He fiddled with the seam inside his pockets, willing himself to look casual, comfortable.

 

“It depends on the artist,” the man said with a shrug, eyes gliding up Sonny’s body before landing on his face. “But I know this one personally. She’s in it for the money.”

 

“You’re kidding,” Sonny said with a laugh, shaking his head. “I always thought art was meant to be about enlightenment, and expression, and--”

 

“You’ve been reading too many novels,” the man said with a snort before taking a sip from his drink. “But you’re right. That’s what art should be about.”

 

“So this crime scene was made solely for money?” Sonny said with a laugh before freezing completely as his words caught up with him. An apology was on the tip of his tongue when he heard the other man bark out a short, harsh laugh.

 

“I take it your not a fan?” He smirked, lowering his eyes to his glass. “I like it, personally, but--”

 

“I literally know nothing about art,” Sonny cut him off, feeling his face grow hot. “My opinion honestly counts for nothing, it--”

 

“Relax,” the man said quietly, resting his hand on Sonny’s arm. He felt goosebumps rise on his skin, running across his whole body, just from one light touch through two layers of fabric. Ridiculous. “You’re allowed to not like it. Let me show you something you may like.”

 

The man gestured ahead of him, so Sonny took a step forward, jumping a little when the man’s hand came to rest on his lower back, just lightly, more of a guidance than a real touch. Still, Sonny was sure he could feel the warmth of it burning through his jacket, imprinting on his flesh.

 

“I’m Rafael, by the way,” the man -- Rafael -- said softly, leaning in close.

 

“Sonny,” he responded, turning his head to look at him.

 

“Sonny,” Rafael repeated back to him, eyes sparkling. Sonny felt his breath catch in his throat as they came to a stop. “Thoughts?”

 

He blinked stupidly for a moment before slowly turning his eyes toward the painting Rafael was gesturing at. He was still hyper-aware of Rafael’s hand resting on his lower back, barely applying pressure, but a fixed presence nonetheless.

 

He took a deep breath, casting his eyes across the canvas. His arms prickled with goosebumps that had nothing to do with Rafael as his eyes traced the dark, messy brushstrokes. He still didn’t get it, but in a sense, he did, too. There was something beautiful about it, something sad, even though his brain told him that a two-year-old could probably paint the same thing.

 

“I really know nothing about art,” he responded, feeling a flush rising on his face once. “It...It’s sad, but I don’t know why?”

 

He frowned, turning to look at Rafael. He expected Rafael to be looking at the painting, or maybe laughing at him. He wasn’t expecting the soft look on the other man’s face, or the way his eyes sparkled knowingly.

 

“Let me ask,” he said quietly, resting his hand on Sonny’s forearm again. “If you’re not interested in art, why are you alone at an art exhibition?”

 

Sonny huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “Honestly? I owed my sister a favor.”

 

“And where’s your sister now?” Rafael smirked, and Sonny felt a flare of irrational jealousy ignite inside him.

 

“Probably hanging off some poor man, comparing him to a piece of art she doesn’t understand but thinks she does because she’s read books,” he bit out. He could feel the shame welling up inside him immediately at his outburst, and he bit his bottom lip, lowering his head. “I love my sister, but she’d only want you for your money.”

 

Rafael laughed. “I’m not interested in your sister.”

 

Sonny could swear Rafael’s eyes were darker now, his voice a little deeper, a little huskier. His expression was unreadable, but Sonny was sure there was a question there, one he didn’t know how to answer. He swallowed thickly before licking his lips, stomach swooping as Rafael’s eyes traced the movement, his own lips quirking up into a barely-there smile.

 

“Let me show you something,” Rafael all but whispered. He deposited his almost-empty glass before turning to wind his way through the crowded gallery, not even bothering to look back to see if Sonny was following.

 

Sonny was following, though. It felt like there was a magnetic pull between them that he couldn’t ignore even if he wanted to. Everything about Rafael was enticing, inviting. That thought set his cop instincts alight, but he was far too intrigued to actually listen to them.

 

He followed Rafael through to a large set of solid metal doors behind a partition, away from the exhibition.

 

“Where’d you get keys?” He asked with a frown, eyes catching on the set in Rafael’s hands as he shimmied the old lock.

 

“I should hope I have keys to my own building,” he said, voice teasing as he slipped through the door, holding it open just long enough for Sonny to slide through before it slammed shut with a deafening bang.

 

He felt Rafael’s fingers curl around his wrist tugging him along before moving to let go. He didn’t mean to, it felt as though his muscles acted of their own accord, but he reached back, grabbing hold of Rafael’s hand, linking their fingers as they climbed a set of metal stairs that creaked and groaned with every step they made.

 

He felt like a teenager again, holding hands with an attractive stranger, not sure quite what was going to happen next. He figured he ought to feel embarrassed at that, but he only felt excited, and perhaps just a little bit nervous. All he wanted to do was back Rafael into a corner and kiss him senseless, but despite everything, he still wasn’t entirely sure what Rafael wanted with him.

 

They climbed five flights of stairs, not speaking once, though they held hands the entire time. Rafael fiddled with the lock to another door, and as he pushed it open, the cool Manhattan air hit Sonny’s face sending a shiver down his spine.

 

As he followed Rafael out onto the rooftop towards the edge, he felt his stomach flutter, a strange sense of awe filling him up. He’d never thought he would describe a view of Roosevelt Island as beautiful before, yet here he was, watching the lights dance on the water’s surface, gaze drifting across the buildings in front of them, and beauty was all he saw.

 

He turned to tell Rafael as such, but his words got stuck in his throat. He felt his heart stutter as he took a small, involuntary step towards the stranger. The city had nothing on Rafael. Rafael was stunning, enigmatic, art personified. The light the city cast over his face made him seem ethereal, other-worldly. Sonny wanted to reach out, to touch, but he knew better.

 

Time seemed to stretch on between them. He’d never spent so long staring into another person’s eyes, staring into their soul. He felt he should look away, move, do something, but he was frozen in place.

 

His breath hitched and his heart stuttered as Rafael reached up, cupping his jaw, thumb brushing lightly along his cheekbone.

 

“Is this okay?” Rafael whispered, breath ghosting across Sonny’s chin as he leaned up, just a little.

 

Sonny nodded, unable to speak, before closing the distance between them. As their lips met, he felt a warmth flood through him, filling him up from head to toe. Rafael threaded his fingers into Sonny’s hair, his other hand winding around Sonny’s back, tugging him closer. Sonny flailed for a second, his brain short-circuiting before his hands settled at Rafael’s waist.

 

He pulled Rafael impossibly close, hand running under his jacket, up his back, relishing in the shudder of muscles under his touch.

 

“Wow,” Sonny breathed out as they broke apart, faces still close enough to kiss, chests heaving.

 

“You could say that,” Rafael laughed breathlessly, lowering his gaze.

 

Sonny reached out, tipping Rafael’s chip upward so their eyes met once more. “Why me?” He asked, heart pounding in his chest.

 

Rafael smiled softly. “Why not?”

 

Sonny felt his face break out into a grin before he leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to Rafael’s lips. He felt light, impossibly so, like the rest of the world around them had disappeared and they were floating above it all, in their own little bubble, untouchable.

 

Then his phone buzzed in his pocket, piercing through the silence. In just one second, their moment had ended.

 

Sonny fished his phone out from his pocket, sighing as his Lieutenant's name flashed up on the screen.

 

“Duty calls,” he muttered, waggling his phone in Rafael’s direction.

 

Rafael gave a small nod, releasing his hold of Sonny completely to take a step back, leaving him feeling cold. He lingers, itching to reach out, but the incessant buzzing in his hand wouldn’t allow it.

 

As Sonny darted down the stairs, phone pressed to his ear while Liv rattled off the details of their new case, he realized he left without Rafael’s number. He felt himself hesitate for a moment, hovering at the foot of the first set of stairs. He thought of piercing green eyes and the feel of Rafael’s lips and he felt that pull once more. Taking a deep, calming breath, he focussed his attention on Liv, forcing himself to continue down the stairs. His heart would have to wait.

 

\--

 

Sonny took a deep breath in before stepping into the art gallery. This time he had left the tuxedo behind in favor of his favorite suit. He felt more comfortable, more in control, more himself. Despite the nerves bubbling in his stomach, he wound his way through a sea of unfamiliar faces in search of the one face that had haunted his dreams for weeks on end.

 

As his eyes locked on green from across the room, he felt his face stretch into a smile. When Rafael returned it that familiar warmth filled him, like a fire waiting to be ignited, propelling him forward.

 

Time seemed to stretch on forever, the rest of the world dissolving around him until it was just sparkling eyes and a devilish smirk before him, sending his heart into a frenzy.

 

“Have dinner with me,” he blurted out as soon as he was in front of Rafael, close enough to touch but not quite daring.

 

He felt his face grow hot, the words having fallen so unexpectedly from his tongue. But it was the first of many things he wanted to do with Rafael, so he bit back on his hesitancy, bit back on his fear.

 

“How very forward of you,” Rafael said with a smirk, eyes raking over Sonny’s body.

 

“Yeah, well,” Sonny gestured lazily, ignoring the wild thrum of his heart and the churning in his stomach. “Life’s short, you’re hot. So, dinner?”

 

Rafael laughed, but his expression softened into something far fonder than the smirk he’d worn before. “Now?”

 

“If you like.”

 

Rafael nodded, placing his glass down before linking his fingers with Sonny’s. “Lead the way.”

 

He knew it was a stupid, naive thought, but when Rafael smiled up at him, eyes full of a warmth that could set the world on fire, Sonny felt as though he were holding the entire world in the palm of his hands.


End file.
